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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759862">Sweetheart, We Need To Talk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileen_R/pseuds/Eileen_R'>Eileen_R</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, F/M, Five times Tony asks a question plus one time Bucky asks, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileen_R/pseuds/Eileen_R</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Tony said.</p><p>Bucky froze.  It was over.  Tony had obviously finally realized how unworthy Bucky was of the time and attention of a man like Tony Stark.  Bucky wouldn’t fight.  He would leave without a whimper and never, ever, bother Tony with his murderous presence again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, Tony Stark/James "Bucky" Barnes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>455</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweetheart, We Need To Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sweetheart, We Need to Talk</p><p>                                                                                                                        By Eileen_R</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Tony said.</p><p>Bucky froze.  It was over.  Tony had obviously finally realized how unworthy Bucky was of the time and attention of a man like Tony Stark.  Bucky wouldn’t fight.  He would leave without a whimper and never, ever, bother Tony with his murderous presence again.</p><p>“Do you like living at SHIELD?” Tony asked.  </p><p>This was so far afield from what Bucky had been imagining that he merely gaped at Tony for a second.  “Uh--  Kind of?”</p><p>Tony frowned at him.  “Kind of?”</p><p>“It’s better than a ditch in the rain,” Bucky pointed out.  He’d spent more than a few missions in ditches.  Or crouched motionless on blazing hot rooftops during summer.  Or hidden deep in wilderness with bugs crawling on him.  Or--</p><p>“Many things are.  Is a SHIELD barracks better than the penthouse?”</p><p>“God, no,” Bucky said.  He looked around wistfully.  The penthouse at Stark Tower was by no means as swanky as some of the millionaire mansions Bucky had broken into in his assassin days.  Yes, the electronics were beyond state of the art, the upholstery cushy enough for an angel’s butt, the art to die for—but the plain fact of the matter was, the place felt like a home, what with Tony’s spare tool kits, coffee mugs, and fidget toys lodged in various crannies.  “Honest to pieces, this is the best place I’ve ever spent time.”</p><p>“Then, maybe,” Tony suggested.  “You could spend the entire night some time?  Instead of getting up at the ass-end of dark o’clock to leave, every single time?”</p><p>This was awkward.  </p><p>“It’s not you,” Bucky tried to explain.  “It’s not the tower; the tower is great.  Really.  It’s just—” he sighed.  “I have nightmares, Tony.  Bad ones.  Sometimes I wake up and I don’t know who or where I am, and there are knives in my hands.”</p><p>“One time I had a nightmare and summoned the armor in my sleep,” Tony said quietly.  “Pepper woke up to Iron Man looming over her.  That was—yeah, that may have been one of the things that led to the break-up.”</p><p>Bucky knew the feeling.  “I just really don’t want to wake up with your blood on my hands.  You know?”</p><p>Tony paused.  “I do have a guest room.”</p><p>“Oh?” Bucky said cautiously.  </p><p>“Yeah.  Right over there.”  Tony opened the door; they both peered inside.  “It has a bed, and, and a window, and everything.”</p><p>“Huh,” Bucky said. He thought a moment.  “I’ll get my stuff.”</p><p>(Three months later, the guest room had been made into a back-up armory and storage facility for tac-gear, and the bed had never once been used.  Well—not for sleeping, anyway.)</p><p>                                                                                       *</p><p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Tony said.</p><p>“I didn’t do it,” Bucky said.  “It wasn’t me. I have a rock-solid alibi and Jarvis will back me up on that. Jarvis!” he called to the AI in the ceiling.</p><p>Tony ignored him. Typical.  “Why won’t you go with me to the Maria Stark Foundation Gala?”</p><p>“Oh, honey,” Bucky said.  “You don’t want me to go with you.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, I actually do.  Which is why I asked you, asshole.”</p><p>“In my country, we call that the beginning of love talk,” Bucky said mildly.  He sighed and sat up on the couch, holding up an index finger.  “One.  You don’t need to be seen escorting a guy.”</p><p>“I know you’ve been frozen for seventy years, corpsicle, but you’re going to have to trust me on this, bisexuality is no longer shocking, shameful, or particularly interesting. At least twelve percent of the guests will be escorting partners not identifiably of a different gender. This would not be the first time I went with a male partner.  Frankly, no one cares anymore.” </p><p>“Two.  You don’t need to be seen escorting a mind-controlled weapon of mass destruction--”</p><p>“Excuse me.  According to our friends at Fox News, you are the longest-living POW in world history.  Show some respect.”</p><p>“Three.  You don’t need to be seen escorting a mass murdering assassin!”</p><p>“Bucky, my money came from manufacturing weapons, remember?  For most of my adult life I was literally known as the Merchant of Death.  I see your death toll and I raise it by, oh, several million!”</p><p>“That is not the same,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his face.  </p><p>“Buck!  Come on! Please come and save the other guests when boredom forces me to violence!”</p><p>“This is going to be a disaster,” Bucky sighed, surrendering.</p><p>“Ooh!  Wear the grey suit, it really sets off your eyes.”</p><p>                                                                                               *</p><p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Tony said. </p><p>Bucky dropped his head into his hands.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I know it was wrong at the time.  I never should have done it, and I will never do it again.”</p><p>Tony paused.  “We’ll stick a pin in that one, m’kay?  Bucky—”  He opened his mouth, obviously second-thought what he was going to say, closed it again.  “Back in the war, did you have any thoughts for what you might do if you and Steve both made it home alive?”</p><p>“Uh,” Bucky said slowly.  “Yeah, sure, I guess.”</p><p>“What were they like?  What kinds of things did you imagine?”</p><p>“Well.  It wasn’t like there was all that much time for day-dreaming, what with scrounging for rations and ammo, fighting Hydra and Nazis and, you know, trying to stay alive.  But, I guess--  Well.  If we both got back alive, Steve and me would have gotten places next to each other.  Found jobs.  Married.  Had kids.  Our wives would be best friends, and they’d sit out on lounge chairs in the back yards and drink wine and laugh while the kids ran around and got into trouble and we drank beer in the kitchen and told bad jokes. Until eventually we would be just four tiny wrinkled people sitting on a sofa reminiscing about the old days when things were better.” </p><p>“So you didn’t think about it at all, huh?” Tony grinned at him.  “But you did plan on having kids?” </p><p>“That was what people did,” Bucky reminded him.  “They got married, they had kids.”  </p><p>“Yeah, sure.  But—you don’t mind the thought?  Of having them?”</p><p>Realization struck Bucky like a bolt from the blue.  “Oh, my god.  You’re jealous of Steve.”</p><p>“I’m not… jealous,” Tony protested unconvincingly.  “I’m—envious, maybe.  Steve just has this glow when he’s looking at Darcy.  He’s been painting the nursery for weeks now; he’s been practicing diapering a bag of flour and putting it in a onesie and patting its little floury back for bubbles.  I never thought I wanted kids, ever.  But now, maybe…  It just doesn’t seem so bad?”</p><p>Bucky kissed him.  “You know that you would make a terrific father, don’t you?”</p><p>Tony’s eyes got big.  “Really?  You wouldn’t mind?  Oh, my god.  Yes, yeah, ok, we’re going to do this! Uh, do you mind if we try for a girl first?  I’ve always heard they’re easier…”</p><p>                                                                                     *</p><p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Tony said. </p><p>All Bucky could manage was a soft groan from his bed of pain on the couch, with Peter marching up and down his bruised body like an eighteen month old Godzilla.  “Can we do it later?” he pleaded.  </p><p>Tony sat beside him on the couch, playing with Bucky’s fingers.  It was sweet, even though his fingers hurt.  And his hand.  And his arm.  And his--  Well, let’s just say, everything hurt.  </p><p>“Bucky.  Do you really--  No, sweetie, daddy has broken ribs.  You can jump on other daddy instead.  That’s right.  Up we go.  And up, and up--  My god, he’s trying to climb the walls again?  What is it with this kid and wall-climbing?  Bucky.  I don’t want to pressure you, or make you feel like you have to make a choice.  But are you sure you want to work for SHIELD?”  And get beat up by idiot supervillains twice a week, hung unspoken in the air </p><p>Bucky peered at him from underneath the ice pack.  “It’s not like I have a large and varied skill set,” he said slowly.  “Not a lot of people lining up to hire an ex-assassin.”</p><p>“Pfft.  Stark Industries would hire you in a heartbeat, and—yeah, I know, you don’t want me signing your paycheck, even though you know perfectly well that Pepper would be one signing it!—but honestly, Bucky, you could work anywhere in security you wanted to.  Or you could own a shop and fix up antique motorcycles. Or run a bakery, or stay home and raise Peter and his putative sister, if we decide to try for a second one.  You could do whatever you wanted to.  Do you want to work for SHIELD?”</p><p>Bucky sighed.  “I’ve got a lot to make up for.  I thought this would be one way to do it…”</p><p>“You’ve saved the world two or three times over, Buck.  I think you’ve cleared your ledger.”</p><p>“I’ll… think about it?”</p><p>“Thanks,” Tony said.  He kissed Bucky so softly it didn’t even hurt, before swinging a giggling Peter up in the air.  “And he’s going for the ceiling now, I swear, this kid—”</p><p>                                                                                     *</p><p>“Sweetheart,” Tony said, teeth grinding so hard they were audible, ”We need to talk.”</p><p>Wow.  Three hours and forty-three minutes since Bucky’s lawyer had dropped the contract off in the legal bullpen at Stark Industries.  Not very long at for the contract to make its way from the low-ranking lawyer who first read it to their supervisor, to the head of Legal, to Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, to Tony.  Not very long at all.</p><p>And yet, by now, his lawyer had told him, she would be in the air and unreachable by phone, flying to a well deserved vacation in—the Bahamas?  Or was in Vancouver?  Or maybe Tahiti?  Someplace very far away.  Bye-ee!</p><p>“What the hell,” Tony hissed, slapping the very familiar contract down. “Were.  You.  THINKING.”</p><p>“Now, Tony,” Bucky said mildly.  “It’s no big deal.  Really.”  Judging by the lasers metaphorically burning at him from Tony’s eyes, that wasn’t going to wash.  Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hand through his hair.  “It’s just, I was at the supermarket, and I saw this tabloid—”</p><p>“Oh, my god,” Tony yelled.  “How many times have I told you?  Never read the tabloids!”</p><p>“Ok, ok.  But it worried me, even though it seemed insane.  So I looked it up online, and it was true.  Something called palimony?  Crazy.  Even the people on the comment boards—”</p><p>“Never read the comments!  We have gone over this, Bucky!”</p><p>“So.  You know.  I just wanted to make it right.”</p><p>“You wanted to make it right,” Tony hissed.  It was really kind of scary, the way he managed to hiss words that didn’t even have an ‘s’ in them.  “So you hired a lawyer, and you had the poor sod write up a contract that stated,” his teeth were grinding again, “that if our relationship ever ended, you formally and completely renounce all claims on all Stark industry property, currency, valuables, possessions, contracts, or any other tangible or intangible assets, past, present and future.”</p><p>Bucky shrugged.  “Yeah, pretty much. She drew it up real pretty, too.”</p><p>“How dare you!” Tony said, and threw the contract in his face.  It wasn’t that long a contract, but still. “You’re telling me that if we broke up, you expect me to toss you to the curb and let you live on the street.”</p><p>“I have a military pension,” Bucky pointed out.  “And VA benefits.  Probably not so much living on the street.”</p><p>“And Peter?” Tony said.  “You’d leave him behind without a second glance.”</p><p>That was a low blow.  Bucky glanced aside.  Peter was hovering in the doorway, carrying the stuffed spider he refused to leave behind, watching them with some worry.  “You’re his legal father,” he said with some difficulty.  </p><p>“Oh well, as long as the legalities are all seen to,” Tony said with contempt.  “I’ve thought a lot of things about you over the years, Barnes, but I never thought you were a coward.”</p><p>Bucky lost his temper.  God, you would have thought that seventy years as a brainwashed assassin would have taught him control, if nothing else, but on his best days Tony could drive a pope to blaspheme.  “I lied, all right!” he yelled.  “If you threw me out, I would sneak back in to murder you. Twice!  I would steal the kid and raise him to be a soulless murdering assassin, I would raze Stark Industries to the ground and salt its ashes!  Are you happy now!”</p><p>Tony’s eyes grew large.  “You do love me!”  He threw himself at Bucky and kissed him like the world would never end.</p><p>Peter shook his head sadly and walked away.  Adults are cray-cray, every line of his body seemed to say.  </p><p>                                                                                         *</p><p>“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” Bucky said.</p><p>“Oh, my god, you’re right, that is the fucking scariest phrase in the English language,” Tony said.</p><p>“I thought the scariest phrase in the English language was ‘Tony, I’m late’,” Bucky said.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “Eh.  Circumstances have overtaken its relevance,” he said, blowing raspberries on Miles’ tummy.  The baby giggled, wiggling.  “Yes, you are a cutie, even if you are another boy.”</p><p>“I don’t know why you’re so set on having a girl,” Bucky digressed for the moment.  “You’ve seen Steve’s monstrous battalion of women.”</p><p>Tony snickered.  “I swear, even the baby has a death glare.  And Steve just looks so proud of each and every one of those little girls—"</p><p>“Anyway,” Bucky waved the irrelevancies away.  “Ok.  I had a speech.  Uh--  No, I’ve lost it.  All right.  Ok.  Tony.  We’ve been together for five years now.  Through senate hearings and diaper blowouts, saving the world and saving the last jar of Nutella from our teammates.  I know this may not be what you want—and please don’t hesitate to say ‘No’ if it isn’t—but will you marry me?” </p><p>Tony’s eyes widened.  An interesting variety of expressions crossed his face, including, in no particular order, confusion, surprise and horror.  He put his hand over his face in what was not quite a face-palm. Bucky felt his shoulders slump.  The answer was no, then.</p><p>“Uh.  Ok.  Well, first.  Yes.  I love you.  All that.  Consider it said.  Yeah.”</p><p>Bucky perked up again.  Yes?</p><p>“On a—not entirely unrelated note--  Remember that time, about five years back, maybe, when the State Department was giving you all that agita about your actions as the Winter Soldier, and your birth certificate from 1917 being invalid, and no proof even of citizenship?”</p><p>“Sort of?” Bucky said cautiously.  “My head was still pretty fuzzy then.”</p><p>“And there were a lot of papers to sign, and statements in front of a judge, and then suddenly all the questions went away?”  Tony was curling the baby up in front of his chest.  As if he was, literally, hiding behind the baby?</p><p>“I remember all the questions went away,” Bucky had started to frown.  “I didn’t wonder about it at the time, but--  Tony. What did you do?”</p><p>“I could have sworn I told you about it at the time.  Guess not, huh?”</p><p>“Tony—”</p><p>“I guess I sort of, kind of—well—married you five years ago.” Tony chuckled nervously.  “Surprise!”</p><p>“Anthony Edward Stark!” Bucky yelled.  “What the hell, man!”</p><p>“Petey-pie, save me, your daddy’s going to kill me!” Tony slipped away, laughing.  </p><p>“No, no, daddy!  No killing in the living room!  It’s a rule!”</p><p>“Stark, you’re going to die!”</p>
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